Chapter 3

I flexed my fingers, feeling the unfamiliar weakness in my muscles warring with the surge of pure adrenaline. It didn' t matter. A mother' s strength is a different kind of power.

"Let go of me!" the blonde girl shrieked, trying to pull her arm away.

I didn' t let go. I twisted.

It was a quick, sharp movement. Not enough to break anything, but enough to send a spike of pain up her arm.

She cried out, a real sound of pain this time, not her earlier performance.

The other teenagers scrambled back, their laughter gone, replaced by shocked, fearful faces.

I leaned in close, my voice a low growl.

"What is your name?"

Tears welled in her eyes. "Madison! My name is Madison Vance!"

Vance. The name from the nurse. Scarlett Vance. So this was her spawn.

"And my mom is Scarlett Vance!" Madison wailed, as if the name were a shield. "She' s with Ethan Hayes! You better let me go or you' ll be sorry!"

The connection clicked into place, a circuit of pure rage.

The woman who took my husband, her daughter, hurting my child.

My control snapped.

I released her wrist and my hand swung, cracking across her face with a sound that echoed in the sudden silence.

It was a sharp, ugly sound.

Madison stumbled back, clutching her cheek, her mouth hanging open in stunned disbelief.

"Mom?"

A small, trembling voice came from the ground.

I looked down. Lily was staring up at me, her eyes, Ethan' s eyes, wide with a mixture of terror and impossible hope. Her face was pale, with a faint, yellowish bruise high on her cheekbone.

"Is it... is it really you?" she whispered. "You can' t be here. Scarlett... she' ll hurt you. She' ll hurt Dad."

I ignored Madison, who was starting to sob hysterically. I ignored the gawking teenagers. I crouched down, my eyes only for Lily.

My hand, still shaking, reached out and gently brushed the hair from her face.

"It' s me, baby," I said, my voice breaking. "It' s me. I' m here now."

She flinched at my touch, a small, instinctive movement that shattered my heart into a million pieces.

I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly. She was so thin, so fragile. She trembled against me, and then her arms wrapped around my neck and she clung to me, burying her face in my shoulder.

A sleek black car, the kind that whispers wealth, pulled up silently to the curb.

The back door opened and a man got out.

Ethan.

He was older. There were lines around his eyes, silver in his dark hair. But it was him. He looked from the crying Madison to me, holding Lily.

And he froze.

His face, which I had memorized over a thousand shared mornings, became a mask of pure shock. Disbelief, then dawning recognition, then a wave of pain so profound it was like watching him get stabbed.

I stood up slowly, keeping Lily behind me, shielding her with my body.

My grief, my confusion-it was all gone. All I felt was the clear, cold fury of a queen returned to find her kingdom in ruins.

"Ethan," I said, and my voice was ice.

He took a stumbling step forward, his lips parted but no sound coming out.

"Fifteen years," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "You let me sleep for fifteen years, and this is what you let them do to our daughter?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked helpless, broken. A shadow of the man I loved.

I didn' t wait for his excuse.

I walked right up to him.

And I slapped him.

Hard.

The sound was even louder than the one that had hit Madison' s face. His head snapped to the side.

"You failed her," I snarled, my face inches from his. "You failed me. You failed."